


All Good Things

by ItsClydeBitches



Series: Worth the Wait [2]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Babies, Dorks in Love, Everything Will Eventually Be Happy and Nothing is Wrong, Fluff, Geekiness, M/M, Marriage, One Shot Collection, Pining, Slow Build
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-05-11
Packaged: 2018-10-10 08:35:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 18,392
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10433694
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsClydeBitches/pseuds/ItsClydeBitches
Summary: "Good things come to those who wait... provided they know what they're waiting for."Moments in Barry and Cisco's lives as they slowly and surely fall in love. It's simultaneously the easiest and most complicated thing they've ever done.(Part of the "Worth the Wait" series.)





	1. Sickly Sweet

**Author's Note:**

> Hello, lovely readers! PLEASE NOTE THAT: 
> 
> 1\. This directly follows "Worth the Wait," but you don't necessarily need to read that first. Just know that Cisco fell for Barry while he was in his coma and this all takes place post-that. 
> 
> 2\. Like in "Worth the Wait" Harrison Wells is a Good Guy here. He's exactly as we knew him in season one (paralyzed, cranky, prone to manipulation) but without the whole 'secretly being evil Eobard' thing. 
> 
> 3\. This is a collection of one-shots and thus they won't be posted chronologically within Barry/Cisco's timeline. I've got ideas for early on in their relationship, months later, years later, etc., so just be aware of that. This also means that if you have anything you'd like to see I'm very willing to take prompts :) 
> 
> That's all. Hope you enjoy!

_~Barry and Cisco's first date. Picks up directly after Cisco asks Barry to coffee in "Worth the Wait."~_

* * *

 

There was monitoring Barry’s speed, hearing about it, even imagining it in his dreams... but then there was seeing it.

 

And holy Hannah. Jesus Christ, goddamn, let’s just get the whole family involved because it was so much more than he’d ever pictured. Cisco knew in that moment what it felt like to be visited by divinity. It was like the whole world had just opened to him, revealing more magic and possibility than he could have ever conceived.

 

It was _awesome_.

 

He was splayed out on his ass, the asphalt freezing his thighs and the wind—no, the kickback generated by Barry—was stinging his already cold cheeks. Cisco didn’t care though. He grinned until it felt like he was porcelain ready to crack and then he just kept on grinning. He wanted to live in this moment, bottle it and take a shot of it daily with his coffee.

 

“ _Hell yeah!_ ” he cheered. “ _Hell fucking yeah!_ ” Cisco hardly recognized his own voice. He pumped up the fist that held the speedometer, still generating numbers that kicked his heart into high gear. Cisco turned to make sure Caitlin and Dr. Wells were seeing this, understanding this, and let out another laugh at the scene splayed out behind him. Barry had massacred their stuff, papers strewn every which way and their tent drooping from a misaligned pole. Caitlin looked like someone had knocked her upside the head, complete with befuddled expression and fly-away hair. Cisco was a little afraid she was going to start drooling if she didn’t close her mouth soon. Dr. Wells, on the other hand, was cool as ever, courtesy of a great pair of sunglasses and, well, him being him. Cisco did catch his lean forward though, that same itch clearly thrumming through Dr. Wells’ body. It was the call to investigate.

 

“How fast?” he demanded. Yeah, Cisco could hear the thrill in his voice too.

 

“305. No wait, 375. He’s almost at 400!”

 

“And almost out of road—” Wells said, which was the exact moment the endless _shhhhh_ of wind that had been emanating from the speakers connected to Barry’s suit cut off with a terrific crash. It suddenly occurred to Cisco, in the awful, stomach-dropping manner of someone who had Not Thought This Through, that Barry might know how to run, but he didn’t necessarily know how to _stop_.

 

He also realized that plastic barrels might not make for the most comfortable landing.

 

As well as what could happen to the human body when it hit a solid object at 400 miles per hour.

 

Cisco caught Caitlin’s eye and saw a similar horror reflected there.

 

“Oh shit,” he whispered.

 

Barry began screaming over the coms.

 

***

 

Cisco leaned heavily on the glass wall separating him from Barry, very firmly keeping his gaze on Caitlin instead. He let out a sigh he was sure she’d be able to hear.

 

Caitlin kept pouring over her x-rays. Cisco sighed louder.

 

“Did you want something?” she asked and it was only the smooth brow—she got crinkles when she was mad—that let Cisco know she was teasing. Which made sense. Who had time to be upset when they had a friend healing multiple fractures over the course of an hour to geek over?

 

Or who had time to pay attention to him?

 

Not Caitlin, apparently.

 

“I’m not good at this,” Cisco moaned.

 

“Actually you’re excellent at annoying me.”

 

“Ha. I mean this. Waiting.”

 

Caitlin finally looked up. Her gaze swept over Cisco before settling on Barry in the other room. He was still getting x-rays done, the machine personally adapted by Caitlin to take far more images than normal, separated over micro-seconds to catch minute changes in the healing process. She’d begun developing it about a month after they’d discovered Barry’s regenerative abilities. Looks like it was already coming in handy.

 

Her gaze shifted back to Cisco. “He’ll be out in a minute.”

 

“You know that’s not what I mean.”

 

“...yeah, I know.” Caitlin ran a hand over her face. “I get the feeling we’re both going to have to get used to it though.”

 

Cisco finally turned to look at Barry. He was just lying there, too much like while he’d been in the coma, staring up at the ceiling as the x-ray moved slowly above his hand and wrist. Cisco had done his waiting then and it seemed a little unfair that he was suddenly required to do more. Worse was Barry’s scream echoing over and over in the back of his head. Cisco had heard people’s screams before. No duh. You weren’t at the heart of a goddamn particle accelerator explosion without witnessing certain shit only found in the movies: like the unholy screech of metal as it bent and collided with itself, hot flames on the back of your neck that sputtered out into noxious fumes, voices mangled into something unrecognizable, stemming from grief and pain. It had given Cisco nightmares for months, still did sometimes... but Barry’s cry was somehow worse.

 

Maybe it was the change: happy running sounds to sudden screams. Or maybe it was just the fact that he knew Barry.

 

Loved Barry.

 

Cisco thumped his head lightly against the glass. “You know what I am, right?”

 

“What are you?”

 

“The _wife_. I’m the one waiting at home while the hero runs off into danger. Sitting useless at the window, hoping for letter or a glimpse of him coming home—

something sappy like that. Tell me I’m wrong.”

 

Caitlin made a strangled noise that might have been a laugh. “Oh my god, just go _talk_ to him,” and she practically shoved him out the door.

 

Cisco went, heels skidding the whole way.

 

Barry looked up and if he found it odd that Caitlin was manhandling him and then beating a hasty retreat, he didn’t mention it. Hell, not like that was odd in the grand scheme of things, yeah? Barry just sat up, carefully easing his arm out of the x-ray.

 

“Hey,” he said.

 

“Hey back.”

 

 _Great one, Cisco,_ he heard and firmly told himself to shut the fuck up already. So Barry was easier to talk to while unconscious? Big deal. He was an intelligent, semi-responsible adult who could totally talk to cute guys okay it was _easy_ —

 

“—Wells?” Barry was saying.

 

Cisco opened his mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, not unlike a fish. “Wha?”

 

“I asked where Dr. Wells is.” The corner of Barry’s mouth twitched. “You okay?”

 

“Oh yeah. Fine. I mean, jeez, shouldn’t I be the one asking you that? Ha! Guess a totally shattered wrist kind of puts a damper on coffee, huh?”

 

Aaaaand there it was. Cisco, of the genius IQ, was keenly aware that 1. Barry’s earlier acceptance of the invitation could have just been him being polite and 2. He probably didn’t feel like going out now anyway and 3. What had ever made him think he’d want to go out with _him_ because 4. He’d just clocked in at nearly 400 MPH like that was rad as hell so 5. What were they even supposed to talk about, the weather? Like ‘Oh yeah, nice day we’re having, what’s the wind speed like when you’re going that fast?’ and 6. Cisco was so very aware that he was internally rambling but he _just couldn’t stop_.

 

Barry, miraculously, hadn’t left.

 

“—see why,” he was saying this time, and Cisco screamed at his brain to focus for one goddamn second. “I mean, I think I’m fine now.” To demonstrate Barry lifted his hand and very slowly rotated his wrist in a figure-eight. He did wince a little at the bend, but there were certainly no screams like before and for that, at least, Cisco was grateful.

 

“You’re good to go!” Caitlin called through the window, scaring the living hell out of Cisco. Barry snorted as he jumped and accidentally knocked a bottle of somethin’ or other off its tray. “Just go easy on it!”

 

That was all, apparently. Caitlin had already abandoned them for the new x-rays coming through to her laptop.

 

“Great!” Barry hopped off the bed, pausing only to grab his sweatshirt off a nearby chair. “Let’s go.”

 

“...right.”

 

They were going out. That was cool.

 

That was _fantastic_.

 

This time it was Barry dragging Cisco out the door and Caitlin gave him absent-minded thumbs up as he passed by.

 

***

 

 

If Cisco had thought that he was in control of this little outing, or that Barry in any way needed a refresher course on life after his nine-month nap, he was quickly disillusioned. They spotted Dr. Wells in a side workroom on their way out, somewhat obsessively going over the videotape of Barry’s first run. He waved them off, distracted, and with a happy cry at the freedom Barry practically bounded out of STAR Labs, dragging a starry-eyed Cisco along for the ride. He said that they should go to Jitters because the coffee there was easily the best ever. He said they should walk there because it was too nice a day not to. He said he liked Cisco’s “This is bullshit” t-shirt complete with bull and shit emojis and it took Cisco all of fifteen minutes to fall a little more in love with Barry Allen.

 

And by ‘a little’ he meant ‘a lot.’

 

“I got you, I got you,” Cisco said, flapping a bill at Barry when they finally reached Jitters. “‘Least I can do after all that is buy your drink. Besides, I don’t think Caitlin wants you carrying stuff just yet. Go sit.”

 

Barry saluted in thanks. “You a couch or a table person?”

 

Tables meant getting to stare at Barry without it being weird. Couch meant close, physical contact. Both had their merits. “You choose.”

 

“Couch it is,” and Barry jogged off to commandeer the spot in the corner, the one that had a 99.9% chance of being his usual haunt. Cisco smiled.

 

Because yeah, he might not know this joint, but it was clear that Barry felt at home here. There was an easy smile on his face and a looseness to his shoulders that Cisco hadn’t seen in STAR labs yet. He watched Barry texting on his phone with the kind of intensity he’d previously only given to circuitry.

 

“You feel like ordering this century?”

 

Cisco’s head whipped around, making eye contact with the barista and immediately wishing he hadn’t. There was nothing quite as scary as an overworked woman who needed to be done with her shift an hour ago.

 

Except maybe Dr. Wells without his coffee, Cisco was determined to never experience that particular horror again.

 

He tried for a winning smile. “Yeah, sorry. Head in the clouds there for a sec.”

 

Ah, and that completely cheered her! Not. Barista: 1, Cisco: 0.

 

_Just get on with it, dude!_

 

“Sorry,” he said again, muttering. “Right. Just—Iced mocha for me please and a—”

 

Cisco stopped, mouth snapping shut so fast and hard that he nearly bit his tongue in two. He could literally feel his eyes widening as he realized he’d never asked Barry his order.

 

“Uh...” he said, training off.

 

There were moments—awful, needless moments—when Cisco was all too aware of his awkwardness and the ways in which it dug him into deep, dark, and terribly dank holes. All at once he could feel the barista’s impatient glare boring into his forehead, the bodies of customers pressing against his back, and his poor brain trying to rifle through seven months worth of research... and coming up with absolutely nothing. How the hell could he know Barry’s _shoe size_ and not his drink order?

 

“Sir?” she snapped.

 

He could stall, of course. Tell her to wait just one moment and hoof it over to Barry. That would absolutely be the smart thing to do, which was why Cisco opened his mouth and said,

 

“Large hot chocolate, please.”

 

The barista was too scary. He valued life too much.

 

Which was how he ended up back at Barry’s side five minutes later with a panicked expression and a kind of insulting drink.

 

“I don’t think you’re five,” he led with, causing Barry to blink owlishly up at him. “And you’re totally welcome to my mocha, or something else. Definitely something else. I mean I will brave that woman’s wrath for you, man, just say the word—”

 

At some point during his spiel Barry had snuck his hand out and snatched the second drink, taking a curious sip. His grin was the only thing that could have shut Cisco up in that moment. Which it did.

 

“How’d you know I like hot chocolate?”

 

_I didn’t, I just figured literal rays of sunshine probably liked sweet things._

 

“Oh thank god,” is what he actually said and Barry laughed out loud.

 

The rest was, to Cisco’s shock, surprisingly easy. He settled in next to Barry (knees almost brushing, shoulder to shoulder as conversation got intense) and they just _talked_ , like they hadn’t got a chance to yet, like he’d wanted to for as long as their ‘conversations’ had been one sided. Cisco blabbed everything to Barry, from the simple (“Born and raised here, dude. Never plan to leave.”) to the defining (“Star Trek kicks Star Wars’ ass!!”) Barry mostly told him things Cisco already knew... yet they became so much more coming from him. Details made all the difference, and Barry giving him parts of himself, rather than Cisco stealing them away, was the difference between a black and white film and color. Freaking vintage vs. HD.

 

“I just can’t believe it,” Barry was saying, lifting his hand as evidence. “I mean, the storm, the coma, waking up like—like _this_.” His whole body suddenly vibrated in a way that made Cisco gasp, then grab hold as if to shield him from view. No one noticed though, and he just ended up with a handful of Barry’s sweatshirt, Barry himself grinning a few inches from his face as Cisco grinned back. “ _Right?_ It’s crazy and awesome and... and I want to _do_ something with it.”

 

Cisco was nodding rapidly. “You will, man. You’ll help people. I know it.”

 

Barry’s face had shifted into a scowl. “How though? I’m not exactly Green Arrow material, you know? I’m just a guy who got struck by lightning.”

 

“Oh that guy is crazy cool. Not that you’re not! You are. Only with a whole lot less of the crazy. Which is so completely the point here. You’re _made_ for this, man. Besides, we’ll help you. I told you before: Dr. Wells is the world’s foremost genius—you know that—you’ve got Caitlin for all your patching up needs, I’m gonna supply you with the toys,” Cisco punched his arm, warm and pleased when Barry rocked with it, exaggerating a wince. “We’re the quintessential team, dude! Besides, no one knows what they’re doing at first. You’re in your freaking origin story faze. Volume one, alright? So chill and take it a day at a time. We’ve got your back.”

 

Barry was practically bouncing and Cisco made a mental note to never give him legit caffeine.

 

“We’re going to make the _best_ team.”

 

“I never doubted it,” and Cisco honestly never had.

 

“Here.”

 

He went still because out of goddamn nowhere Barry’s hands were flat against his chest, pressing and kneading in a way that was both ‘ _hello_ ’ and ‘ _oh my god_.’ It took Cisco a good moment to realize that Barry was pawing for the cell in his shirt pocket, what with him imitating a deer about to be road-kill and all.

 

Mission accomplished (he could breathe again oh god breathing was good), Barry started entering his contact info, rambling about how he’d need to ask Singh to re-arrange his schedule a bit, and he could totally come into the lab at nights too if that was okay, because he’d been keeping track and he didn’t think he needed to sleep quite as much as he used to...

 

Cisco listened, but a part of him was on his knees in the back of his mind, raising hands and praising every deity he could think of. Because this _never_ happened to him. He just wasn’t the guy who asked for coffee and got an honest ‘yes’ in response. He didn’t have gorgeous guys scrambling to give him their number. He didn’t get guys like _Barry_ , complete with the happy ending.

 

“Barry!”

 

And of course it was his name that took it all back.

 

The call came from Iris, halfway across the room with a tray on her hip and an apron tossed over one shoulder. Cisco vaguely remembered her mentioning working here and he raised a hand in greeting, peripherally seeing Barry do the same. She gave a brief ‘one moment’ gesture and went into the back. Cisco went back to Barry.

 

He found a man sitting there, besotted.

 

Like his demeanor between the labs and Jitters, it was easy to spot the difference once it was there. With a feeling like plunging off a cliff Cisco catalogued the bright-eyes and dopy smile, Barry’s hands twisting around his cellphone and his teeth ever so lightly catching his bottom lip. It was the expression of someone head over heels and Cisco recognized it because he’d caught sight of his own reflection more than once lately.

 

Love often came down to assumptions... or perhaps more accurately faith. Cisco had accumulated a lot of both over the last seven months and now reality was knocking a sledgehammer against his carefully crafted facade. Because coffee wasn’t always _coffee_ , was it? Not when Barry had an endless social life and was probably willing to share food, clothes, touch, and even beds with ‘best buds’—not just boyfriends. It was just the kind of guy he was. And it occurred to Cisco with a pang that his seven months was nothing to Barry’s seven days. That Barry might have rightfully viewed all this as friendship—which is was—but not the kind that needed to go anywhere. Hell, Cisco didn’t even know if he was gay, or bi, or pan, or _anything_. Pictures of Barry with a painted face at Pride could just be solidarity. The selfie of him kissing a guy’s cheek could be humorous, or another example of his touchy nature. Everything he’d built into a Something could be nothing at all.

 

He wasn’t the ‘wife’ waiting for the hero, was he? Nah. Cisco was the two-bit sidekick and they never got the romantic lead. Didn’t he know the stories by now? The gorgeous guy always got the pretty girl.

 

They were their happy ending and Cisco felt sick.

 

“You okay?” Barry asked. He laid a hand on Cisco’s shoulder, the touch burning, but at least it was entirely for him. He’d torn his gaze away from Iris to look at Cisco and really, was he entitled to ask for more?

 

No. Barry didn’t owe him anything…but Cisco would take what he could get. He always had.

 

He clapped his hand on top of Barry’s.

 

“Of course, dude. Never better.”


	2. Dynamic Duos

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~Halloween plans between boyfriends. Picks up directly where "Worth the Wait" left off~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was in no way expecting to update this quickly... but here's a bit of fluff to counteract the last chapter :D
> 
> A rough timeline for this AU: 
> 
> Barry is struck by the lightning early in July of 2013  
> He's moved to STAR Labs roughly two months later in September of 2013  
> He wakes in April of 2014  
> He and Cisco are dating by October 2014 (about seven months post-coma) 
> 
> Also, "Worth the Wait" has Cisco's powers beginning to manifest around the same time as Barry's, so the presumption here is that Vibe exists pretty early on. Cisco is still mainly the coms guy, but he's helped out Barry in some tight spots before.

He’d hesitated about saying it. After all, things were nearly perfect in this moment: their meta of the week was safely locked away in the pipeline; the city otherwise quiet; Caitlin off on a date of all things, her first since Ronnie’s death; Dr. Wells had assured them all that he was quite happy with his book and that they should “Enjoy your Friday doing... whatever it is you kids do nowadays” (which had set off a debate regarding the connection between the age of fifty-two and ‘being old’); Joe and Iris were out for the weekend visiting cousins; Barry and Cisco had the house to themselves; there was a mountain of food to eat and _Hocus Pocus_ on TV. What more could a guy ask for in life?

 

“I vibed this,” Cisco whispered, really hoping he wasn’t ruining the casual atmosphere with his sappiness. It kind of just bubbled out of him though. He hadn’t even recognized the scene until a moment before and when he had it seemed like something that needed acknowledgement. The fact that Barry’s response was to kiss him was... well...

 

_Well._

 

“Fuck you’re good at that,” Cisco muttered, finally pulling back. Barry chuckled lightly against his lips, coming back in to nip once and brush his nose alone Cisco’s cheek.

 

“I’ve had a whole lot of practice.”

 

“Aww c’mon, dude. Not cool. I do not need to hear about your past conquests. Or any conquests for that matter.”

 

“Sorry,” Barry said, not sounding sorry in the least. He sat back for real and took up a handful of Cisco’s hair instead, twisting the strands absently. “You really vibed this though? Nice, nice. Did you happen to vibe whether you get me another Pepsi as well?”

 

Cisco scowled. “No way in hell I’m getting you that heathen substance. Drink Coke like the rest of us or get out.”

 

“It’s my house.”

 

“It’s Joe’s house and he’d support me on this.”

 

“Pleeeeease,” Barry moaned, grabbing hold of Cisco’s shoulders to wrench him back and forth.

 

“You’re the one with super speed!”

 

“I’m all sped out. Fighting a guy who controls water isn’t easy, you know. Or did you forget that I almost drowned tonight? I mean here I am, saving the whole city from imminent doom, and my lousy boyfriend won’t even get me a Pepsi...”

 

“Oh for fuck’s sake—” and Cisco scrambled out of Barry’s lap, swatting him with a pillow as he cackled. “Anything else I can get you, Oh Great and Mighty Flash?”

 

Barry had already sprawled out on the rest of the couch, popcorn bowl taking Cisco’s place. He made half of it disappear in an instant. “Nah. That’ll do for now. Like the name though.”

 

“I bet you do.”

 

Cisco shook his head, fighting a smile as he meandered into the kitchen. The truth was he was _very_ aware that Barry had nearly died tonight, thank you very much, but that was just the thing—‘nearly dying’ had become a weekly thing with them. Repetition didn’t dull the experience at all, it just meant they had to get creative with their coping mechanisms, and humor had always been a go-to for the both of them. Cisco would get that man the goddamn moon if he asked for it, and Barry knew that he would—he’d do the same—but he also knew that Cisco needed to complain a certain amount first, otherwise they’d just be sobbing every other day and really, no one needed that.

 

Trauma was a weird ass thing.

 

“Ice?” he called, grabbing a can from the fridge.

 

“No thanks. Hey, you still nixing my Mary Poppins idea?”

 

Cisco rolled his eyes. “Yeah, dude. Keep trying.”

 

“Let’s see you do better then. We need epic, Cisco. It’s our first Halloween!”

 

Uh huh. First Halloween as friends. First as boyfriends. First with the world shiny and new and meta-filled. In a rare moment of camaraderie Singh had announced a party at the precinct the night of the 30th, something about bringing everyone together in the face of new threats, optimism during what was sure to be a rather dark holiday this time around, blah, blah, blah. Cisco thought the guy was just a softie at heart and wanted his squad pampered.

 

Barry in particular. Cisco had been there when he’d asked that Dr. Wells be invited too and Singh had hardly batted an eye. That was a damn lot coming from the man who’d previously been calling for his arrest.

 

And yes, Cisco was considering it his personal mission to make sure Dr. Wells dressed up too.

 

“Epic is my middle name, you know this!” No response from Barry. “You dead in there?”

 

Ah, more morbid humor. The fact that Cisco could simultaneously grin and feel a real stab of panic was probably cause for concern. He was already forgoing a glass and turning back when Barry did speak, his voice a little strained.

 

“No... hey, Cisco? Uh, I’m on TV...”

 

Brow furrowed, Cisco jogged back into the living room. “Yeah? So? I mean it’s cool and all, but you’re on the tube a lot nowadays.”

 

“No, I mean _I’m_ on TV.”

 

He arrived just in time to catch what Barry meant: their movie had been interrupted with a montage of local CCPD police work, including a shot of Barry taking samples from a mugging last week. It was kind of weird, seeing him bent seriously over a zipped up corpse as well as sitting befuddled on the couch.

 

“That’s freaky,” Barry announced. “I’ve never actually gotten to see my face before. It’s like when you hear a recording of yourself, you know?”

 

“I hear you,” Cisco said and felt the obligatory pain as Barry smacked him for the pun. “What’s going on?”

 

The report turned to Captain Singh in what looked like a live announcement at the precinct. Cisco checked the clock—only 6:00pm—and Barry’s shrug told him he didn’t know anything more about it. Poor Singh looked done in though as he stood before a small collection of reporters. His next words made it pretty clear why.

 

“—annual holiday gathering,” he was saying, “and we’ve decided to expand that to All Hallows’ Eve as well. Originally this was meant to be a small event within the department, however, at Dr. Wells’… _generous_ suggestion—” here Singh’s throat worked like he was swallowing lemons. “The party will instead take place at STAR Labs and be open to the public for a set period of time. The guest list otherwise—”

 

Cisco tuned the rest out, pointing an angry finger at the TV. “No, no! Dr. Wells is just doing this so he can play ‘host’ and not dress up! This is an obvious and feeble attempt at getting out of a costume, and I will not let it stand! I mean yes, mega party at the Labs is awesome, and it’s probably gonna be great for our PR, but also _no_.”

 

He expected instant agreement from Barry, quick-thinking plans about how to circumvent this new obstacle, but Barry had set the popcorn aside and was now staring fixedly at the television. A related report had begun, the newscaster speaking animatedly about how ‘The Flash’ costumes were selling out everywhere and were expected to be the most popular outfit this year.

 

Cisco snorted. “Drink your damn Pepsi and don’t let that go to your head.”

 

Barry was still staring though. “Cisco,” he said slowly. “You can make anything, right?”

 

“Can I—what kind of an insulting question is that?”

 

Barry looked up, a rather impish grin beginning to light up his face. “Can you make another version of the Suit? Like, a _really_ awful version?”

 

“I... yes? But why the hell would—?”

 

“Because I want to go as The Flash,” Barry interrupted. He nodded decisively. “And who better for you to be than Flash’s mysterious, part-time comrade Vibe?”

 

Oh my god.

 

An awful version of the Suit. Cheap, shitty goggles for him and a slightly inaccurate chest piece. Costumes decent enough that you could tell who they were meant to be, but still awful enough that no one would suspect _they were actually them_.

 

The trolling to end all trolls. Dr. Wells was gonna throw a _fit_.

 

Cisco solemnly held out his hand for a fist-bump. Barry met it with enthusiasm.

 

“That, my gorgeous friend, is the epic-ness we were looking for. I only wish I’d thought of it myself.”

 

Barry spread his arms. “I try.”

 

“I taught you well, is what you mean.”

 

“You wish.”

 

 _Hocus Pocus_ finally came back on. Their cells lit up with texts from Caitlin asking if Dr. Wells had finally lost his mind and there was a Pepsi can gathering condensation on the coffee table. Barry and Cisco ignored it all in favor of sketching up some costumes.

 


	3. Baby Blessings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ~The first few months with a kid are always the roughest~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's Friday! Here, let me start off the weekend with more teeth-rotting fluff. This chapter is for Sujata who wanted to see the boys as parents. Hope you like it!

“Okay listen. A bargain, yeah? I will pay you in endless chocolate milk if you Just. Stop. Crying.”

 

Maybe little Lisa knew Cisco was lying to her—he was pretty sure you couldn’t give infants chocolate milk yet—because she just screwed up her face and cried all the louder. With a mimicked sound of despair Cisco hefted her back into his arms, doing a desperate rock-a-bounce-dance-thing in an attempt to sooth her. No such luck. Not for the first time he was thankful that Oliver had outfitted their apartment with soundproofing technology as a house-warming gift. He’d set it up with a whole nudge-nudge, wink-wink attitude that set Barry’s teeth on edge and made Cisco feel tired, but they both ultimately knew it was for the nightmares.

 

Now it was for this little devil.

 

“God, why didn’t you come with a manual?” Cisco muttered. Lisa shrieked even louder, directly in his ear no less.

 

In fact, there were lots of ‘manuals’ around, more than Cisco knew what to do with: _What to Expect in the First Year_ , _Babies 101_ , _Babyhood_ , _Baby Care_ , even a slightly iffy paperback titled _The Baby Whisperer_ that made him think of bad daytime television. The small library was pooling out of their bookshelves and onto the floor, yet all of it proved to be absolutely useless. Sure, sure, it wasn’t like Cisco had managed to read every page yet—only asshole speedsters had that kind of time on their hands—but he’d read enough to know the checklist. Is she wet? Hungry? Feverish? Gassy? Dealing with a rash? An early life meltdown at the ineptitude of her father? The answer was none of these things, except for maybe #6, which Cisco was still holding out on. With a sigh he nestled Lisa over his shoulder instead, half scared that she’d make herself vomit with all this screaming.

 

“I don’t know what’s wrong, oh, I don’t know what’s wrong, why are you crying, you wrinkly devil child~”

 

Cisco sang his stupid little song, keeping up a light bounce. He paced between the couch in their living room and the open kitchen, unfortunately catching sight of his own reflection in the stainless steel oven. Lisa looked cute enough, considering that a teddy-bear onesie could do absolute wonders, even when the kid wearing it was trying to cough up a lung. She had little tufts of her black hair sticking out from under the hoodie part (complete with ears) and with her brown eyes a woman at the store today had commented that she looked just like him—how wonderful! Cisco had barely contained a hysterical laugh, but couldn’t keep back a muttered, “Not for long.” Poor woman had been massively confused and that had pretty much been the highlight of his humor for the week. So yeah. Cute kid.

 

Cisco on the other hand... was not at his best.

 

 _You look like Emperor Palpatine_ , he thought and honestly? That wasn’t too far off the mark. He might not be white, but Cisco sure was pale by his standards, courtesy of too many sleepless nights and iffy meal schedules. You’d have thought that a life spent on obsessive pet projects and eventual superhero-ing would have gotten him used to this, but nothing compared to a kid. An infant. An organic mass of noise. Cisco had gotten out the ratty sweats saved for major sick days and pulled his hair into an iffy bun. He was wearing clothes and had showered sometime this week. That was all that could be expected of him at this point.

 

Lisa, however, seemed to be under the impression that he should be doing a whole lot more.

 

“That’s it, I give up, this is me caving—” keeping one arm around Lisa’s back Cisco made a scattered, drunken-like search of the living room, overturning everything from empty Chinese cartons to (oh god) what might have been an impromptu baby wipe in the search for his cell phone. He finally found it in the pocket of a sweatshirt he couldn’t remember buying, let alone wearing, and pressed speed dial with equal parts hope and cynicism.

 

“You’d better be dying.”

 

Harry’s dry voice prompted Cisco to look at the clock and realize with only a dull sort of response (was this defeat then? Indeed it was) that it was nearing the 3:00am mark. Cisco was about to make a comment on how Harry never slept anyway when he continued,

 

“And what is that sou—?” Harry suddenly cut himself off. “No. Wait. I know exactly what that sound is.”

 

“Make her stop,” Cisco pleaded. He wondered if Harry could even hear him over Lisa’s gurgled, endless cries. They were ear-piercing and repetitious, like she was a machine designed only to torment him rather than a tiny human who, theoretically, needed to breathe.

 

He could easily imagine Harry bent over his office at STAR Labs, fingers digging into the bridge of his nose. Cisco had only been there the once—back when the three of them were still trying to save Jesse—but it wasn’t a space he’d easily forget. The plain, almost sterile environment had positively screamed, ‘Harrison Wells, Genius Asshole CEO’ and Cisco wondered if he’d finally at least hung a picture up. Or invested in comfier chairs. He could ask Harry, of course. His invention of a multi-dimensional cell service was easily his coolest thing to date and well worth it if it let him know whether his third favorite asshole (Barry was the first, Lisa had recently bumped up to second) was still ruining his lower back. And the fact that Cisco was thinking and worrying about this at all told him that he really, _really_ needed to sleep.

 

“I think she might be dying,” he announced. Lisa screamed her agreement. There should have been companionable panic on Harry’s end, dammit, not snorts of laughter.

 

“She is not dying,” he said. “Not unless you’ve suddenly become far less observant and far more reckless in the two months since I’ve seen you.”

 

“But she’s gotta be.” Cisco realized he was whining, that he was basically praying for his daughter to be dying just so he could justify all this. He was horrible. He didn’t care.

 

“Babies cry, Ramon.”

 

“Like _this_?”

 

“Yes. Exactly like that,” and Cisco could hear the oncoming headache in Harry’s voice. Good. Suffer.

 

He shifted Lisa to his right side where he had the phone pressed between his shoulder and ear, hoping that somehow maybe the voice of a fellow asshole would sooth her. No such luck. Cisco could basically hear the squeak of his chair as Harry pulled back on his end though so, small victories.

 

“She’s a baby,” he reiterated. “That’s what they do.”

 

Cisco drew in a massive breath. “Okay. You make a compelling argument. But how do I turn her _off_?”

 

“You don’t. Not unless you murder her. Don’t murder your daughter, Cisco.”

 

“I’m not,” he said vehemently...then paused. “I’m _trying_. Oh god, how do I hate and love something so much and all at once?”

 

This time Cisco could hear the smile. “That’s fatherhood.”

 

“Jesse was like this?”

 

“I was a single dad raising a daughter who inherited my stubbornness and her mother’s lungs. So yes, she was ‘like this.’”

 

Cisco nodded, taking some sort of comfort in that. Lisa, meanwhile, had segued into a stream of hiccupping gurgles that, while not as loud, were somehow all the worse for how wet they sounded. He spun in a swaying, tight circle that of course did absolutely nothing. Cisco could hear Harry typing something on the other end.

 

“Where’s Barry?” he asked.

 

“Believe it or not, having a worse night than me.”

 

Cisco found the remote control a little easier than his cell (hiding under only two toys, imagine that) and quickly turned to the nearest news station. Sure enough, as one could always expect this time of night they were covering the Flash’s latest heroics. On a good day that would be simple stuff that made Cisco’s heart ache and his cheeks get all sore from smiling: helping out with construction projects, stopping would-be accidents, even, on one memorable occasion, rescuing a cat from a tree. Yes. It had actually happened. Cisco had the pic to prove it. That lovely image was his phone background and everyone went, “Wow? Not your husband? You must really like the Flash,” and each time Cisco could answer with complete honesty, “ _Yes_.”

 

Those were the good nights. Now though?

 

“— _authorities caution everyone to keep away from Dalton Street, where the Flash and the band of thieves known as the Rogues are still in an all-out battle. This is not the first time that the Scarlet Speedster has wrestled with Leonard Snart and his cohorts, and some are begging to grant him the title of The Flash’s ‘arch-nemesis’_ —”

 

Cisco snorted just as Harry made a similarly disgusted noise. “Oh please. How soon they forget,” Cisco muttered. “It looks like Snart upgraded his tech though, really giving Barry a run for his— _shit_. Shit that...that was a wall. Barry just went through a wall.”

 

“Should you be out there?” Harry asked, the thinnest thread of worry in his voice.

 

“No, he’s got it.” Cisco sighed as a helicopter camera showed just that, a blur of red lightning shooting out of the dust cloud, dodging beams of frost and fire as it went. “Barry got Lisa through a rough patch of colic earlier this month and I handled all the meta nonsense. We’re trying to alternate.” Cisco pressed the heel of his hand into his eye as Lisa, still tucked against his neck, sobbed her displeasure. “It’s exhausting.”

 

“Hmm.” Cisco wasn’t sure if that was a sympathetic hmm or a, ‘I’m barely listening’ hmm. “I could come out there if you want. Pull Jesse from Earth 3.”

 

“Thanks, but nah. Aren’t you building the Death Star or something?”

 

“Nothing quite so grand,” Harry drawled. “Or deadly.”

 

“Whatever. You do your thing. Caitlin and Harrison have got Barry’s coms and HR... well, frankly he’s still composing poetry for Lisa—”

 

“Good god.”

 

“So yeah, that’s a thing. I swear he’s— _holy shit!_ ”

 

Cisco had put Harry on speaker, finally pulling Lisa back to shift her into a different position... only to find that his little black-haired, brown-eyed girl was gone. In her place was a freckled redhead whose cheeks were quickly going ruddy from crying.

 

Harry chuckled. “She change?”

 

“ _Yes_. Jesus, I’m still not used to that.”

 

Lisa Ramon-Allen, formerly Lisa Dighton, had been born to Rebecca and Larry Dighton, two seemingly normal, first-time parents living on outskirts of Central City. ‘Seemingly,’ of course, was the key word there. In the years since the particle accelerator explosion Team Flash had seen all manner of metas, from the crazy to the downright cool... though they were still only just starting to the scratch the surface of the changes they’d invoked. Plenty of people remained ‘normal’ after that fateful day, but their DNA had still come into contact with the dark matter, regardless of whether that connection developed into any abilities. They’d still been _changed_....and only now were they starting to see all the possible ramifications of that. Like what happens when two people ‘unaffected’ by the explosion went and had a kid.

 

Turns out, metas could be born.

 

Harrison couldn’t explain Lisa’s ability, no more than he could theorize about anything without significant data. They simply hadn’t found any other second-generation metas, not yet anyway. The metas they already knew all seemed to have abilities connected to their transformation: getting caught in a storm created the Weather Wizard, falling into a pit of tar give a poor guy the ability to become the stuff...a kid struck by lightning woke up with the power to harness its speed. Cisco had seen it all. Why Lisa had the ability to shape-shift though...that was as good as anyone’s guess.

 

All they knew for sure was that Rebecca Dighton had reacted in a manner unfitting for humans and metas alike. It was one thing, a natural thing, to kick up a fuss when you thought the hospital had given you the wrong kid—wasn’t she born with brown hair? No-one in our family has blue eyes!—but the media storm she started once she realized Lisa’s nature had turned all their stomachs. It was too much too fast, what with the second generation bomb, the fears about what a shape-shifter could do, questions of race as Lisa changed skin color every couple of hours... Cisco was only glad they’d gotten her before she’d started changing her sex as well.

 

Because they did have her. Now. And thank god, because Barry had barely gotten there in time the night Rebecca decided to kill her own child.

 

Cisco had _never_ been more grateful for Harrison’s creepy surveillance.

 

That had been a night for the books, one hectic, horrible, all-encompassing night that literally changed their lives forever. Saving Lisa had been the easy part, and watching Joe cart the so-called parents away was beyond satisfying, but the question quickly became, what to do with her now? They couldn’t put Lisa into the system—not with her abilities—Joe’s life had become just a little more busy since he’d last adopted a kid, Harry was still in the process of raising Jesse (despite her own, vocal objections)... honestly, before Cisco knew what was happening Barry had offered to watch her, and then ‘watching’ became... something else entirely.

 

Cisco sighed as he pushed Lisa’s bear-hood back, ruffling the strawberry curls. She flailed tiny fists at him for his effort and cried, cried, cried.

 

“You know,” he said, “Barry and I hadn’t even talked about kids yet. How did this happen? It’s so _weird_.”

 

“Weirder than a whole city developing previously unheard of powers?”

 

“Well...”

 

“Or proving the multiverse theory?”

 

“Alright—”

 

“Or a massive, telepathic, _highly_ homicidal gorilla?”

 

“I get it, Harry.” In retaliation Cisco held the phone directly beside Lisa’s mouth and hoped she ruptured an eardrum. “Oh my god wait. Hold all the horses.”

 

“What?”

 

Cisco made a grab for the remote again, turning the volume way up. The same newscaster as before was reporting that all the meta drama had finally concluded, which could mean—thank every possible god—only one thing.

 

Cisco closed his eyes. “Oh Jesus, Mary, and Joseph, _thank you_. Barry should be here any—”

 

A flash of lightning filled the room. A few of Lisa’s toys took a nosedive off the couch.

 

“…now.”

 

He’d honestly never been happier to see his stupid, gangly husband than he was in that moment. Cisco dimly heard Harry escaping and wishing them both a slightly sarcastic good night, but he was more preoccupied with giving Barry a once over. He looked fine for the most part. A few scraps along his arms and a pale tint to his skin that spoke of Snart’s gun, but for the most part Barry was a whole and healthy godsend. He was also carrying a small shopping bag. Which was admittedly weird.

 

Priorities first though.

 

“I love you,” Cisco announced.

 

Barry blinked, having only just come to a stop and still looking a little frazzled. “I... love you too?”

 

“You’d better, and you’re gonna show it by taking her.”

 

Cisco all but shoved Lisa into his arms, forcing Barry to drop the bag and go into an exaggerated lunge/scooping motion. He cradled her safe though, a massive grin splitting his face despite Lisa’s cries.

 

“Aww, look who’s a carrot-top,” Barry cooed. “Have you been doing this all night? Driving poor Cisco up the wall?”

 

“Yes,” Cisco collapsed on the couch and nudged Barry’s leg until he did the same. “ _Please_ make her stop.”

 

And then, to Cisco’s everlasting amazement, Barry did. Cuddling her close he raised two fingers before Lisa’s face and rubbed them together, speedster fast. Barry generated lighting there, letting it dance across his fingers, and after a few minutes Lisa began to quiet, watching the lights in pure rapture.

 

“Oh my god,” Cisco breathed. He sat bolt upright. “What. _What._ ”

 

“Shhh.” Barry began rocking Lisa too, never stopping his hands, and after a few minutes of the two of them just watching her closely, Lisa’s eyes finally slipped shut. She let out a few soft hiccups before settling completely.

 

Cisco wanted to blame it on dumb luck, or the fact that he’d already tired Lisa out for Barry— _something_. The fact was though when he looked up it was like he was seeing the Flash’s heroics for the very first time.

 

“Okay,” Cisco whispered, “but I actually _really love you_.”

 

Barry bit his lip, trying not to laugh. “I actually really love you too,” and he leaned in for a kiss, both of them careful not to disturb the little terror between them. Cisco melted into it and when Barry pulled back he rested his head on his shoulder. Barry’s hand had moved on to playing with Lisa’s hair.

 

“I do like the red,” he whispered.

 

Cisco laughed silently. “Of course you do.”

 

“Just like Daddy,” and Barry gave a cheeky grin.

 

“ _I’m_ daddy.”

 

“We both are... which now that I think about it is going to be super confusing.”

 

Cisco rolled his eyes. They felt like two massive cinderblocks and god, was Barry comfortable. “We know a lot of people with the same name, huh? Jesus. Okay wait, does Hot Snart still think we named Lisa after her?”

 

“Don’t call her that.” Barry lightly bumped his shoulder and when Lisa squirmed they both froze. She only settled deeper into sleep though. Her hair was very slowly fading to white. “And yes. She’s kind of insistent about it. I don’t want to push it though because, well...”

 

“She scares the living hell out of you?”

 

“... yeah.”

 

“Same, dude, same.” Cisco nudged the discarded bag with his foot. “And this?”

 

“Another onesie. Panda.”

 

“Oh my god. Are you seriously saying the Rogues shot at you with their super deadly power guns, put you through a goddamn wall... and then gave our kid more clothes?”

 

Barry shrugged as much as he could. “Yes? They’re just kinda like that. Snart wants to be godfather.”

 

“ _Harry’s_ godfather.”

 

“And HR. I mean, she’s already got a million ‘aunts’ and ‘uncles,’ so...”

 

Cisco’s lip twitched. “And a ‘Grandpa Harrison.’”

 

“He’ll honestly kill you if he hears you saying that again.”

 

“Bring it.”

 

Barry shook his head. “She’s going to be spoiled rotten, isn’t she?”

 

“Pretty sure she already is, dude.”

 

Watching them Cisco’s chest felt tight, but in a good way, like there was some much right going on that for once he couldn’t even bother with the bad. Sure, tomorrow there’d be harder fights than the Rogues, more surprises with Lisa’s abilities, and he still had no idea how to be a dad... but at least Barry was here, muddling through it with him.

 

It took Cisco a moment to realize that the hand that had been playing with Lisa’s hair had moved into his instead.

 

It was warm and blessedly quiet. The silence was only broken by a murmur from Barry. It might have been, “Rest.”

 

Nestled beside his two favorite assholes, Cisco did just that.

 

***

 

However, all good things must come to an end, even sleep. _Especially_ sleep when you’ve got a kid.

 

Barry must have moved them both while Cisco was dead to the world because Lisa’s renewed cries came from her room now, while he was tangled up with Barry in bed. Disoriented, it took Cisco a pathetically long time to pull himself from his wonderful cocoon of comforter and limbs. Barry, for his part, didn’t even stir. He could insult the Rogues all he wanted, but those fights always took a lot out of him. Cisco gave his back an absent pat as he padded to Lisa’s room.

 

She was squirming in her crib, blanket kicked off to the side and her dinosaur plushie abandoned in the corner. She hadn’t really gotten up a full head of steam yet, but Cisco could see it coming.

 

He didn’t pick her up this time; didn’t rock or sing or plead or anything else that he’d been trying lately. Instead Cisco leaned heavily on the bars of the crib and created the tinniest dimensional portal above her head.

 

Some lucky, random universe now had a golf ball sized gateway to wonder at. Cisco didn’t particularly care. It was only Lisa’s wonder he was concerned with. She immediately quieted, letting out breathy coos as she reached for the swirling energy, as fascinated with it as she’d been with Barry’s lightning. Cisco kept the portal open with his right hand while his left carefully pet Lisa’s white hair with his left.

 

He grinned, sleepy and triumphant. “Ha, stinker. Looks like someone has a weakness for awesome. You’ve got good taste.”

 

Cisco looked at his creation. Both of them, as far as he was concerned.

 

“Bet I know who you inherited that from.”

 


	4. Greener Pastures

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello, lovely readers! I'm starting in on a section requested by a bunch of you, but realized quickly that it's probably going to get long and idk how much time I'll have to write as the semester starts winding down. So here's sort of a 'Part 1' as a set up. The next few chapters will follow chronologically and fill in the rest. 
> 
> Also, there are two notes at the end regarding characterization in this AU. Happy reading! :)

Cisco had every possible reason to adore Felicity Smoak.

 

She was a genius, check. More than that she was a specialized genius, in goddamn hacking no less, which was clearly the coolest profession next to Cisco’s own job of Building Everything Awesome. That genius got along well with Felicity’s willingness to commit a felony here and there, as well as a dope sense of humor he couldn’t help but feed off of. She was not in any way bad to look at (how the hell did he manage to surround himself with such freaking beautiful people? Was this Next Top Scientist or something??) and she already had such a kickass name that even Cisco felt like a new one would be sacrilegious. More than that—more than any of that—she worked alongside _the Green Arrow_. C’mon!

 

In any other lifetime Cisco would have laid himself down at Felicity’s feet and begged her to be his bestest friend, forever and always. This was, sadly, not that lifetime.

 

Cisco didn’t like Felicity Smoak.

 

“I thought I might find you here.”

 

Cisco rolled his chair around and found Dr. Wells behind him, taking careful stock of each and every screen on the wall. It wasn’t the first time Cisco had holed himself up in their Control Room, the Surveillance Room, Wells’ creepy-ass space of constant scrutiny. He’d been introduced to it his very first day on the job, his guide making damn sure Cisco knew that every move he made within STAR labs was both monitored and judged. Later, during the early months of Barry’s coma, Cisco had gotten up the nerve to rib Wells about it. Didn’t he think it was just a _little_ on the paranoid side?

 

Dr. Wells had promptly countered that it wasn’t paranoia if people were really out to steal and sabotage your work. Cisco... couldn’t argue with that, though he wasn’t sure how he felt about Dr. Wells expecting to find him here.

 

He’d settled in next to Cisco’s chair, eyes still on the screens. There wasn’t much to watch though. STAR Labs was virtually empty. There was only one monitor showing any movement.

 

Cisco finally took the bait: “What’s that supposed to mean, huh?”

 

Dr. Wells smiled. “It means that you are positively green with envy, Cisco.”

 

He scowled, pulling out a Red Vine and twisting it sullenly between his hands. Like true traitors though, Cisco’s eyes crawled back up to the top center monitor, the one that constantly displayed the Cortex. There, in HD black and white was Barry and Felicity playing Go Fish together, of all things. Cisco had nixed the audio, but it was enough to see Barry throwing his head back and laughing at something Felicity said.

 

“ _That_ ,” Dr. Wells murmured, leaning forward to catch a glimpse of Cisco’s expression.

 

“Alright, ease up on the mind reading, Professor X.”

 

“Mmm, that is rather appropriate now, isn’t it?” Dr. Wells tapped a finger against his chair.

 

“Just so long as you don’t go bald.”

 

“It’ll happen eventually.”

 

“Not on my watch. You’d look awful.”

 

“Ah, well thank you for that stunning opinion of my appearance.”

 

Cisco chuckled, though it faded as he caught another glimpse of those two fighting over their cards. Felicity was practically in Barry’s lap now as he held them high over his head; Barry had his hand placed low on Felicity’s chest to deter her.

 

“… Am I really that obvious?” Cisco asked, eyes glued to the screen.

 

Dr. Wells nodded his head to one side, then the other. “To me? Caitlin? Yes. Though we’ve spent a great deal of time together this past year. It might take a stranger… oh, an extra ten minutes or so to see it.”

 

“Gee thanks.”

 

“If it upsets you this much then do something about it.”

 

Dr. Wells said it so easily, like there was anything for Cisco _to_ do. Barry liked Iris. That had been made abundantly clear following their disastrous non-date, wherein Cisco got to meet the real Barry, not one confined to a computer screen and friends’ grieving memories. That Barry—though someone even more extraordinary—was also disgustingly human, in that of course he’d love the gorgeous, brilliant, 100% supportive friend who he’d just happened to have grown up with and knew every single secret/hope/dream that Barry might have shared during his twenty-odd years on this planet _._ Like what kind of _soulmate nonsense_. And even if Barry didn’t want Iris?

 

Well, he could have Felicity instead.

 

Cisco wielded his Red Vine like a saber and pointed it at the screen. “I do not like it, Sam-I-am. I would not like them here or there, I would not like them _anywhere_ —”

 

“You realize, of course, that the entire point of the poem is that he does end up liking green eggs and ham, yes?”

 

Cisco side-eyed Wells. “You know Dr. Seuss?”

 

He gave him a Look. “I haven’t lived under a rock, Cisco.”

 

“Could have fooled me.”

 

“Enough.”

 

Dr. Wells snatched the candy right out of Cisco’s hand and tossed it into the nearest bin.

 

“Hey!”

 

“Do you know what I just did?” Wells asked.

 

“Waste a perfectly good snack?”

 

“Quiet. I spent the last twenty minutes looking for my senior engineer because, astoundingly, he hasn’t been doing any work today. Imagine my surprise when I find him stalking another member of the team rather than, oh, I don’t know, doing absolutely _anything_ productive.”

 

Cisco squirmed. “I’m your only engineer,” was all he could come up with because dammit, the rest was actually true.

 

Normally he wouldn’t dare be this petulant and, frankly, immature around his mentor, but Barry was just so _cozy_ up there with Felicity. Cisco had needed to get away for a while, and frankly he felt like being stupid about this, okay? He was entitled!

 

“You know he invited her out on a double date,” Cisco muttered. He ignored Wells sighing and rubbing at his eyes. “Iris and Eddie are going to this trivia thing at Jitters tonight and she wanted Barry to come, so Barry invited Felicity and _ugh_.” He dug his hands into his hair. “I can’t even be mad! Not really! I mean have you met her? She’s amazing! And she works for _Oliver Queen_. Who is also _The Arrow_. As in, they are the _same person_. I can’t compete with that!”

 

“So do something,” Dr. Wells repeated. He moved his chair a little closer, setting his arm on the control panel and leaning into Cisco’s space. “You want Barry that badly? Go _get_ him. Do whatever you have to to win him over. Cross a few lines even...” he smirked in a manner that had Cisco leaning back.

 

“Alright, hold up now, hold up. You really want me to be t _hat_ guy. The sleaze that goes stealin’ someone else’s man?”

 

Dr. Wells was still smirking. “Why not? If you’re the best choice, where’s the harm in demonstrating it? Think of it like a job interview. You just need to convince Barry of your qualifications.” He took off his glasses to polish them. Cisco mouthed ‘qualifications’ with a scarred expression. “I’ll admit I’m...not a man led by the heart, Cisco. I’ve never married (1), seldom dated...I don’t particularly like people. But I do know how to manipulate them. If you want Barry, you need to be proactive in getting him.”

 

Silence descended. Cisco drew in a long overdue breath.

 

“Jesus,” he breathed. “That’s... impressive? Horrifying?”

 

Dr. Wells spread his hands. Whatever compliment Cisco might have been dishing out, he was willing to accept it. Although... Cisco narrowed his eyes.

 

“Okay. No offense, Dr. Wells—”

 

“I’m sure some will be taken.”

 

“—but why do you even care? Co-worker relationships were a strict no-no when we were open, so what gives? I mean— _seriously_ no offense—but you’re, uh, not really the match-making type.”

 

For the first time since the odd encounter began, Dr. Wells looked as if he were honestly considering the situation. Not humoring, not criticizing, just mulling it over as he would any other potential problem. Cisco let him, surprised by the amount of time he took.

 

Dr. Wells finally nodded. “I’m not,” he agreed. “And I stand by what I said. I don’t like people, Cisco... though I do like Barry. He’s an exception. An anomaly, if you will. I want Barry Allen to have the best.”

 

Cisco’s eyes bugged. “And _I’m_ the best?” He wasn’t sure he liked the slightly patronizing look he got in return though.

 

“Iris West is not (2). Oh, don’t get me wrong, she’s a lovely girl, but our Barry needs someone capable of both challenging him and accepting all aspects of who he’s become. Who he’s _destined_ to be.” Dr. Wells looked to the screen. There, Barry smiled in black and white. “Ms. West is not that person. And you needn’t worry about Ms. Smoak. She’s not nearly the threat you perceive her as. You simply need to show Barry that.”

 

Cisco was staring open mouthed at the place where Dr. Wells had been—because he’d rolled away now, and Cisco’s mind was still trying to determine whether he’d been praised or insulted, if he was meant to cheer in triumph or defend poor Iris.

 

“Um... okay?”

 

“And Cisco?” Dr. Wells didn’t stop, just raised a hand as he silently left the room. “The sooner you sort out this nonsense the sooner you can get back to work.”

 

… right.

 

Cisco took a moment. Thinking. He was good at that. On the little screen Felicity had run off somewhere and Barry was alone now, spinning in his chair—much like how Cisco.

 

He pulled out his phone and typed before he lost the nerve.

 

_doing anything awesome tonight?_

 

B&W Barry paused, immediately pulled out his own cell. He smiled when he saw Cisco’s text. Cisco, for his part, positively beamed.

 

_Trivia thing with Felicity + Iris/Eddie. Why?_

 

_oh nm. just thought we could see a movie. you missed_ so _much while you were out, dude_

 

Barry shook his head like that amused him for some reason and typed typed typed, long enough that Cisco was getting nervous until—

 

_Don’t be a dick about it lol. But yeah! Hey, why don’t you come along? It’s suppose to be a couples thing but really, don’t worry about that, it’s just teams AND you’d totally get us a win. We can watch something afterwards, yeah? Shouldn’t take too long_

 

Cisco dithered. The non-Nice Guy side of him won out in the end.

 

_felicity + co won’t mind?_

 

_No way! 6:30. Jitters._

 

_i’ll be there_

 

He let out a massive breath, tossed his phone on the table, and shut off the feed before he could start analyzing every minute aspect of Barry’s expression. After a moment though Cisco gave himself a literal pat on the back.

 

“Good proactive-ness, man,” he said. “Fucking ace.”

 

He was going out with Barry again. Not out-out. Group-out...with the woman he just happened to be in love with, her boyfriend, and the other woman who may or may not be perfect for him. But then there’d be a movie, and Cisco had every intention of making good use of that time.

 

Dr. Wells had always been his mentor. Cisco saw no reason why he should start doubting him now.

 

Operation Woo Barry Allen had begun.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. Right. So you know how I said this Wells is basically the Wells we thought we knew, how he presents himself to the team in early Season 1? It occurred to me then that he probably has a very different past compared to the real Earth 1 Wells. That is, we hear from numerous sources that after the car accident Wells became a ‘totally different man’ and lost all of the relationships he’d built over the years. Obviously in canon it’s because he IS a different man (Thawne), but working under the assumption that he was always like this implies many changes. This Wells would not be making friends with rival scientists, or creating STAR Labs with a partner, and he certainly wouldn’t be marrying someone like Tess. In short, he hasn't had any true relationships at all, as he admits. I think this AU Wells can (and does) become softer, but he needs Team Flash to accomplish that. Right now he’s still at the point where his response to relationship drama is, ‘Idk why you’d want this... but if you do just TAKE it' which basically is not the best advice, even if Cisco does what he can with it :D 
> 
> 2\. Also felt the need to proclaim my undying love for Iris here. I think in many ways she’s the heart and soul of Team Flash and I actually do ship her with Barry a lot lol. So yeah, this is purely Wells’ perspective. Again, he's very single minded and judgmental regarding who he considers ‘worthwhile,’ particularly when it comes to who's associating with Barry now. In his mind a non-meta, non-scientific woman who is ‘just’ a barista (currently) is not worthy of the hero he’s building Barry up to be.


	5. Where Credit's Due

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Patient readers! This is... not an actual update. Not really, and I'm sorry. But I felt super guilty about not having the next section done yet and I figured I should give you SOMETHING. 
> 
> This, then, is Part 1 of a 5&1 surrounding Barry and food that I've realized I don't have time to finish until I get some of my larger projects under control. So I figured I'd post it here in case the rest never sees the light of day. It's not explicitly Barry/Cisco by any means, but I imagined these one-shots in the same universe (early seasons, good guy!Wells, found family, etc.) 
> 
> So yeah. I'm 5k into the next section and, with the semester officially over, hopeing to have that done sooner rather than later. Until then, please accept this tiny place holder ^_^

Barry Allen was the fastest man alive—and also the best kept. In the month since he’d woken up from his coma he’d been showered with more gifts than his tiny apartment knew what to do with. Some of them were practical (like the sweaters Joe had piled into his arms, worried about a previously ill son and the approaching cold weather), and some were vaguely insulting (Barry didn’t get why there was a _spork_ on the card Singh gave him until Joe whispered, “Weird and useless,” inciting some speedy retribution). Others were thoughtful (seasoned box-sets of the shows he’d missed from Iris), and still others traditionally generic (“Thanks for the wine, Eddie.”) Barry even got gifts from his new friends at STAR Labs, though they were admittedly of the speedster variety. Caitlin slapped a bio-metric reader on his wrist to keep a 24-hour eye on his vitals. Cisco gave Barry the coolest suit in the history of ever. And Dr. Wells...

Dr. Wells presented Barry with a credit card.

“Uh,” he said intelligently, taking the bit of plastic between thumb and forefinger like it might explode. Which, given the scientist’s penchant for innovation, wasn’t the craziest of worries. Dr. Wells’ considering look wasn’t helping matters much either. “Thank you?”

“Yes, that is the appropriate response to receiving a gift, Mr. Allen,” he drawled. “The PIN is 8757. Please don’t forget it.”

Barry stared harder. “Thank you...more?”

Dr. Wells hummed, looking pleased, and then rolled away, leaving a thoroughly confused speedster behind. Barry was still staring at the shiny bit of plastic with—yep, that was Dr. Wells’ name on it, apparently with an E middle name—when Cisco sidled up, leaning against Barry’s side and pointing with a Red Vine.

“Dude.” Somehow Cisco managed to encompass all Barry’s feelings in that single, loaded word. “What the hell?”

Barry shook his head. “I, too, would like to know ‘what the hell.’”

“Did you lose yours?” Caitlin asked, coming over curiously. She peered at the card, almost as if she could decipher its meaning purely by its material makeup. Which she probably could. “Maybe he’s being nice and replacing it for you... which might be illegal?”

In answer Barry palmed his wallet out and showed her the perfectly present debit and credit cards. Cisco silently pointed at all the other ‘toys’ that might fall under the category of ‘possibly illegal.’ Caitlin pursed her lips.

Cisco suddenly gasped. “Maybe he’s adopting you!” He threw his hands up at the double withering looks he received. “No, no hear me out. You’re basically, like, his prodigy, yeah? The one good thing that came out of the particle accelerator explosion, plus you’re a scientist, _plus_ you’re smart enough that Dr. Wells has said he wished he’d found you for the Labs earlier—I _heard_ him say that—AND you’ve got some serious parental issues, dude.”

“Cisco,” Barry said.

“Yeah that came out wrong. But how perfect? The generation’s greatest scientist and a true science anomaly. Now I’m not gonna lie, I’ve had daydreams about this myself. I’m sure I can’t be the only adorable genius with a shitty home life who imagines the scientific community’s foremost father figure sweeping him under his wing forever and always—”

Caitlin tilted her head. “Are you okay?”

“...Yeah.” Cisco raised a hand, paused, then pressed it against his lips. “But I’m gonna stop talking now.”

Barry gave his shoulder a squeeze. “Good plan. Although, I’d like to remind you that I’m twenty-seven and very much not in need of a guardian.”

“You do your laundry at your dad’s and each dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets for dinner.”

“And you _don’t_?”

“I didn’t say that, I _said_ —”

“Children,” Caitlin interrupted. “As much as I hate playing the solitary adult around here, dare I suggest we just ask Dr. Wells about it?”

There was a pause in the conversation.

“Boring,” Cisco said; “Killjoy,” Barry agreed, but they both followed her out of the Cortex.

***

They might make fun of him later (read: they absolutely would), but privately they could all agree that Cisco’s view of Dr. Wells’ was uncomfortably accurate. They were indeed all well past the age of legal adulthood, holding down jobs, rents, and bad attempts at romance, they were geniuses all around, and—in Barry’s case—a goddamn superhero, but Dr. Wells still had the uncanny ability to make them feel like toddlers in his presence. Mostly Barry liked to view it as a ‘proud papa’ sort of scenario (which he would never _ever_ admit too—three dads was too many, even for him), but moments like this it was more of a ‘you’re clearly adopted’ kind of feeling.

Barry fidgeted under Dr. Wells’ gaze. Hell, they were all looking down on him—literally—and he still managed to make them squirm.

“O-kay!” Cisco said when the silence stretched too long. “Here we have Exhibit A,” he snagged the card from Barry and presented it like an enthusiastic show host. “Which is for... what, exactly?”

“We’re all terribly curious,” Caitlin said.

“Me, most of all.” Barry raised his hand. “You gave it to me.”

“I did indeed, Mr. Allen.” Dr. Wells briefly removed his glasses to rub at the bridge of his nose. When he looked back up it was impossible to say if his expression was more frustrated or amused. “Really, it takes three of my top scientists to figure this out?”

“We’re currently your only scientists.”

“And we haven’t actually figured it out yet, so—”

Dr. Wells waved a hand. “ _Barry_. What has our primary focus been recently?”

“Testing the limits of my speed?” he asked.

“Making sure the suit stands up under the electrical charges he emits?” Cisco said.

“Accounting for this amount of exercise on the potential for early onset osteoarthritis?”

Barry’s head snapped to Caitlin. “On _what_?”

She shrugged. “I doubt it—you heal fast—but cartilage doesn’t grow back, Barry, and you do a real number on your knees everyday.”

“Oh, c’mon!”

“Your _nutrition_ ,” Dr. Wells emphasized and the other three fell silent. “Or have you forgotten your recent habit of fainting in the most inopportune places?”

“Oh. Right. That.”

It wasn’t that Barry had forgotten per-se, it was just that there was so much else going on—Metas and fights and Iris and Singh breathing down his neck for the report that was still overdue. Dr. Wells’ words shifted his priorities around though and Barry was suddenly aware of just how _hungry_ he was.

He hoped his stomach didn’t growl. That would be inopportune.

Dr. Wells just shook his head though. “As fascinated as I am by the nutritional value of how many bugs you consume each day—yes, you may thank your two cohorts for that research—I’m certainly not willing to rely on it; or on the speed with which we can develop you something to replace... what was it, Cisco? 850 tacos?”

“About that, yeah,” he said. “Though that’s for the baseline.”

Caitlin had pulled out her phone and was doing rapid calculations. “Barry will need a _lot_ more each time he uses his speed. Even more if he’s doing something really strenuous, like fighting a Meta.”

“Or gettin’ it on,” Cisco added, giving Barry an exaggerated nudge-nudge-wink-wink.

“Yes,” Dr. Wells drawled. He monogamously ignored the blush flying up Barry’s cheeks. “It’s simple, really. You’re in need of a staggering amount of food, Mr. Alan, and I don’t believe I’m incorrect in thinking that a CSI’s salary won’t foot that kind of bill, particularly when you’re still working to pay off your student loans.”

Barry gapped. “So this...?”

“Is for those purchases. And whatever else you might need. You just let me handle the bills at the end of the month.” Dr. Wells shrugged, as if handing a man he’d officially known only for a month a carte blanche credit card was no big deal. Caitlin was muttering something about how he wouldn’t buy _her_ a new spectrometer and Cisco just looked smug. He clapped Barry on the shoulder and mouthed, ‘adoption.’

Barry used super speed to pinch his side.

And okay, maybe this was indeed awesomely cool, maybe he, like apparently every other scientist in Central City, had dreamed about working with Dr. Wells. Not just that, but having his attention, somehow earning praise and respect and a special place at his side. The fact that Barry actually had that now was a little hard to wrap his head around. Like finding out in your twenties that Santa is real. Or wishing for a whole tub of mac and cheese and, you know, actually having it appear. It was great, but also weird.

There was also a voice in Barry’s head—sounding suspiciously like Joe—that asked what Dr. Wells wanted in return.

Barry mentally frowned at it and even stomped his foot a bit... but he eventually caved.

“Dr. Wells,” he sighed, “Thank you, like _so_ much, but I really can’t—”

Dr. Wells pinned him with a disgusted look. “Oh, but you can, Mr. Alan. Do you have any idea how rich I am?”

“Uh... no.”

“Mega-rich,” Cisco whispered.

Dr. Wells smiled. “Yes, though I’ve never bothered to find out the exact measurement of ‘mega.’ Hawking believes that flaunting your IQ is the sign of a fool. I believe the same can be said of your bank account. The point is that I have more than I, or you, or anyone in this room could possibly spend in our lifetimes. So please, Mr. Alan,” he gestured again, expansively. 

Barry narrowed his eyes. “What if I go buy video games instead?”

“We all need our hobbies.” Dr. Wells’ smile didn’t waver.

“Or donate an obscene amount to charity?”

“Do you really think I’d take issue with that?”

“Okay, okay, what if I march down to Mercury Labs and give them the biggest donation in the history of ever, huh?”

Dr. Wells leaned his arm on his chair and his chin in his hand. “Hmm. I do enjoy a good challenge.”

Barry finally threw back his head. “Well what do you want then! I mean, you’re not really just giving me all this for free, right?”

He could feel Cisco and Caitlin staring at him. Maybe it was for the rudeness, though Barry suspected they were thinking much of the same. Indeed, there was a rush of relief—a feeling of stability and having _known_ —when Dr. Wells’ smile became just a little bit sharper.

“Why, I want you to run, Barry,” he said and something about his first name made Barry look down in shame. “You can’t very well run without food, now can you?”

“No...” Was it bribery if they each wanted the same result? He wasn’t sure.

“Well then.” Dr. Wells turned his chair slowly, raising a hand as he left the office. “Good talk. Enjoy your dinner,” and then he was gone.

A long, pensive silence hung between the three of them. Then Cisco reached up to lean an arm on Barry’s shoulder.

“That’s right, dude,” he said. “Dinner. You’re paying.” Caitlin clapped her hands together.

Barry flipped the card in his hands; shiny and new like the rest of these experiences. He felt a smile creeping back.

“Yeah. Definitely my treat.”


	6. Fierce Competition

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here it is! A gift for all you amazing readers. Hope it was worth the wait ;)

Cisco recalled with the abruptness of a car crash that he really wasn’t the wooing type.

Let’s face it, in the obligatory ranking system that was life he wasn’t exactly on the top ten Soulmate list. Or twenty. Fifty. Cisco wasn’t even in the freaking _running_. He was a Puerto Rican American with too long hair, too short a body, and absolutely no muscles to speak of. (He still hadn’t forgiven Barry for just waking up with abs, that bastard). His family had always been too poor, too brown... and Cisco had always been too smart for the rest of them. It had been made abundantly clear to him in school that being a nerd—even a genius nerd—would never score him any points. Working at STAR Labs should have been the revelation. Here they are! My people! Revealed to me at last! But even those people turned out to be assholes (Hartley), or snobs (Ryan in bio-tech), or just incapable of getting over the fact that the world’s foremost mechanical-engineer might choose to wear novelty t-shirts on a daily basis (literally everyone Cisco had ever met, with the exception of Dr. Wells. He could appreciate the man’s simple attire even if it was perpetually stuck in an emo-teen stage.) The point was he’d never been a catch and Cisco saw no reason why that would change now. Especially for someone like Barry.

It wasn’t like he was luring in small fish here. He was going after the goddamn white whale.

You know, minus the leg eating, murderous intentions.

“This analogy isn’t working,” Cisco muttered. “I’m losing my mind.”

He’d been losing a lot more than that. After his weird-ass (yet surprisingly uplifting) conversation with Dr. Wells, Cisco had gone to hide out in his workroom instead, under the guise of being productive. Rather, he was really just pacing between the door and his Sleep Depravation Cot, pulling at his hair and reciting an endless stream of, “Oh holy fuck, dude, what have you gotten yourself into” because honestly, what the hell was he supposed to do now? Be _himself_?

“Ha!” Cisco finger gunned an imaginary audience. “Like that’s ever worked.”

The only other option then was to be better. To somehow be more for Barry.

Cisco thought he could do that.

He just needed a little help.

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,” he whispered even as he sat his butt down in the chair and jabbed at his laptop until it decided to cooperate. Info was just a few keystrokes away, even if Cisco did cringe at his own search choices.

In for a penny though, and all that crap.

“Hey there, Cosmopolitan. For the love of God please help me.”

***

 

_Primp before going out and keep on the cool side. Confidence is practically catnip to men!_

 

***

Barry was practically jumping out of his skin.

He knew he’d always looked a bit like a caffeinated junkie (if they had a thing for soft sweaters and the occasional bowtie), but it had gotten so much worse since the accident. He hadn’t known how to describe it until Cisco gave him the words: “Things didn’t slow down, dude. You were just going so fast that it only _looked_ like everyone else froze.” And that’s how it was now, twenty-four seven. He might not always be using his superspeed, but Barry was constantly aware of just how _slow_ everyone was. People walked at a molasses pace, car rides were pure torture (even more than they’d been before), he could stretch a blink into a five minute performance and oh my god just do it, _just do it already_.

Barry’s life was a Shia LaBeouf meme and it resulted in a lot of fidgeting. Sure, there was a lot going on in Jitters already—colorful decorations, people milling around in costumes, mounds of company-approved snacks, a judges table loaded with prizes—but even amongst all that Barry felt like he stuck out. He was currently rattling the table slightly with his bouncing knee.

Eddie leaned and caught his eye across the table. “Easy there, Allen. You okay?”

“Oh yeah, fine. Just excited.” Barry got a smile going because, well, that was true enough, wasn’t it? He was excited.

Eddie grimaced though. “I’m not. Did I tell you guys I’m not much of a trivia person?”

“Yep. Over nine-thousand times!”

Eddie stared. “I just missed some reference, didn’t I?”

“Yep again. Check out Dragon Ball Z sometime.”

“...I’ll be sure to do that.” His tone made it very clear that Eddie was going to do nothing of the kind and Barry chuckled. He had to admit, Eddie was a pretty chill guy once you got to know him, a lot more relaxed than Barry had first assumed. They could be friends. If only there wasn’t that pesky little problem of—

“There she is.”

Barry recognized that tone as well. Sure enough he turned as Iris walked through the front, somehow managing to make Jitter’s sticky floors look like a runway. She wasn’t in anything out of the ordinary—jeans, lightweight sweater, nothing, Barry hadn’t seen her in a million times before—but each time he did it might as well have been a new experience. That pesky thing about everything seeming too slow? Yeah, Iris slowed things down to the max... but Barry didn’t mind in the least. She was glorious to watch. She was everything he’d ever wanted.

Everything Eddie wanted too.

Barry tried not to grimace at the kiss they shared—and he largely succeeded. Iris hugged him and that, at least, felt familiar.

He’d missed this while he was in his coma. He couldn’t remember that he’d missed it, of course, but Barry knew he had.

“Look at this place,” Iris said. She raised her arms only to let them drop heavily, seemingly overwhelmed by the coffee shop’s transformation. “Can you _believe_ they got this all set up in a few hours? If Becca put half as much effort into serving people as she did decorating she might actually make a half-decent waitress.”

“Don’t let her hear you say that,” Eddie stage whispered and the three of them craned necks over the crowd to get a good look at Becca. Tall, stocky, and with a permanent ‘resting bitch face,’ she looked more like ex-special forces than someone who served up coffee every day. Iris and Eddie exchanged exaggerated looks of horror while Barry chucked a pretzel at them.

“She’s nice,” he insisted.

Iris pulled a face. “You think everyone’s nice.”

“She gives me free blueberry muffins!”

“Because no-one else wants them, Barry. They’re awful.”

“Are not,” he said petulantly, tracing his finger over the tabletop. It pulled a laugh out of Iris, just like Barry knew it would, and he grinned in triumph.

Score one for him. That’s right, it didn’t even matter who Iris dated because Eddie would never have this, the intimate, easy-going conversation of those who’d known each other for forever. A part of Barry felt guilty about starting up a ‘competition’... a larger part of him really didn’t care. He’d dated others after all, a fair number actually, and none of them were Iris. Besides, didn’t he deserve something good for once? His mom, his dad, missing out on the particle accelerator launch (which had honestly been a tragedy at the time), getting struck by lighting of all things, and now he was giving himself to the city not just as an forensic scientist, but as a freaking superhero too. It wasn’t like he was asking for a reward exactly... just something. A karmic IOU maybe.

Barry looked at Iris’ enraptured expression and thought that maybe the universe was actually looking out for him now.

Or not. Turns out she wasn’t looking at _him_.

“Wow,” Iris breathed.

Barry wrenched in his seat and then very nearly fell out of it. Because Cisco stood in the doorway and he, he…

...‘wow’ was right. Barry had never seen Cisco looking like _that_ before.

Words like “vision” and “unexpected” were warring in his head. Cisco wore pressed black slacks and slick shoes that made him look taller than he actually was (Barry was sure). Cisco still had one of his trademark graphic tees on (reading “Got Trivia?” in curled, fancy script) but it was accompanied by a grey, tailored jacket that probably cost more than two months of Barry’s rent. Cisco had clearly just shaved—he could smell faint traces of the cream from here, like cedar-wood and eucalyptus fused together—and his hair had the fluffy look of a recent wash, braided neatly and hanging over one shoulder. Barry’s hands twitched in his lap.

He wanted to touch Cisco’s hair. More than that, he wanted to actively run his hands _through_ it, like some sap in a rom-com, because Barry was sure that it would be soft and tangle free and look absolutely fantastic if it was a mussed up a bit.

Which was a crazy thought all around. Not because Barry was wrong about the look—Cisco would be stunning with some well-crafted bedhead—but the fact that he was thinking about this at all. Barry couldn’t remember the last time he’d thought about a guy like that, even briefly. It had probably been back in college, the four years he’d been separated from Iris and actively aware of what it meant to ‘experiment.’ Not that it had been experimentation for long. Not that coming out as bisexual had made him love Iris any less. It was just another aspect of his identity—alongside “scientist” and “son” and ironically “brother.” As far as Barry was concerned that attraction was a dead end because who could he want _but_ Iris? She was already his everything.

So. This was just a simple, entirely objective analysis that Cisco Ramon looked stunningly hot in that outfit. Barry could deal.

“Barry.”

He jerked, the world speeding up and suddenly Cisco wasn’t across the room, he was there. Right there in front of Barry, close enough that the cedar-wood was overwhelming and he could see the tiny, decorative stitches on that jacket. Somehow Iris had gotten a hand on his shoulder, shaking Barry to try and grab his attention and wait, when exactly had all this happened? The three of them were staring at him like he’d lost his mind—which maybe he had—because a good chunk of time had obviously passed without Barry noticing. He clacked his teeth together and realized with dawning horror that his mouth had been hanging open for god only knew how long. There was a bit of drool on his chin.

Barry hastily wiped it away. He sat back so he was leaning against the table, his whole body feeling jittery. Right. Objective observation:

The world had slowed down for Cisco too.

Shit.

“Heeeey,” he said. “You look... good. _Really_ good.”

Cisco started to smile, that bright grin that Barry was beginning to associate with the lab and candy-colored lips, until it suddenly slipped away. Barry blinked, feeling oddly bereft. In its place was a smirk that crawled onto Cisco’s face, settling there unnaturally. He raised a hand flippantly.

“Duh. You don’t really think I always wear crap t-shirts and jeans, do you?”

“Um, no?”

“Exactly.”

Cisco cast Barry a look he couldn’t quite decipher and slid onto his stool. It might have been a suave move if he hadn’t sat so fast, over balancing and nearly toppling to the floor. Eddie caught him at the last second, keeping Cisco upright by grabbing him by the lapels. Barry couldn’t help it: he laughed at the comical look of horror on Cisco’s face. He noticed and shoved Eddie off him, too rough.

“I’m fine,” he snapped and sat up straight. Cisco folded his arms over the table, then in his lap, before finally resting his chin on one hand and tapping the fingers of his other along his knee. Cisco stared out over their heads while Barry and Iris exchanged concerned glances. Eddie just looked pissed.

“You’re welcome,” he said. Cisco ignored him.

“Hey, we’re super glad you could make it. Here,” Iris grabbed hold of the tiny chalk-board with their team name on it, shoving it towards Cisco. “Maybe you can make sense of this nerd nonsense. Help us non-geniuses out. E = MC Hammer?”

Barry groaned. “C’mon, Iris. Because E = MC squared. And MC Hammer. And _can’t touch this_. I’ll have you know it’s brilliant and the hour I spent coming up with it was well spent.”

Eddie’s smile was coming back—and his eyebrows were reaching his hairline. “I’m really not sure it is. Brilliant, I mean. Or worth it.”

“Exactly.” Iris nodded seriously. “I mean, how ‘brilliant’ can something be if no one gets it?”

“I get it!”

“You’re not normal, Barry.”

“Okay, fair, but Cisco gets it too, right Cisco?”

Barry had been watching him from the corner of his eye and Cisco definitely got it. His eyes had lit up the second he’d seen the board and he’d bitten down hard on his lip, clearly stifling a laugh. Barry had known that he of all people would appreciate the pun... but the second he asked it was like Cisco disappeared. Barry watched, a little stunned, as the bright-eyed amusement was snuffed out and Cisco adopted that stiff manner again. It was weird. Like he couldn’t remember how to sit right. Cisco gave the board a disdainful once-over and shrugged.

“It’s fine I guess,” was all he said.

“...alright then,” Eddie muttered and hid behind his coffee.

Barry felt that tone. He wasn’t sure what to make of it, but the initial punch of seeing Cisco all dolled up was fading, replaced by the worry that he didn’t actually want to be here. After all, he looked bored as hell and a little grumpy to boot. Five minutes in and Cisco was just... sitting there, not commenting on the decorations or asking about the competition. While Iris tried to strike up another innocuous conversation with Eddie Barry leaned a bit to the right, into Cisco’s space.

He placed a hand on Cisco’s arm and felt him jump. Barry’s fingers tightened. “You okay?” he whispered. A quick glance confirmed that Eddie and Iris were otherwise engaged. Or at least good at faking it. Cisco was just staring at Barry’s hand though and he snapped it back, suddenly self-conscious. “Look, do you want to leave?”

“With you?” Cisco blurted.

What?

“What?”

At Barry’s puzzled look Cisco’s cheeks developed a warm glow and with his hair pulled back Barry could see the tips of his ears turning red. He wasn’t sure why, but Barry felt his own body reacting in sympathy, making what was apparently now an awkward situation ten times worse. The only difference was he was pale as milk and had the fire truck coloring to match. This happened whenever things got weird. Barry was sure he looked like an idiot now.

He didn’t want Cisco to think he was weird. Of course, Barry _was_ , but that was kind of beside the point. Bad weird. Creepy weird. The kind of weird you gave a side-eyed look at before hastily crossing the street. He really didn’t want that from Cisco and holy shit he was spiraling, what even was the conversation again?

“You can go,” Barry clarified. That didn’t seem to make things better. “I mean, I kind of pressured you into this? Maybe? So if you want to take off I’m not gonna be like, upset or anything. You just look...”

“I look...?” Cisco echoed, leaning in just a bit. The t-shirt beneath his jacket was a little large and it dipped, giving Barry a fucking wonderful glimpse of Cisco’s chest.

‘Hot,’ his brain supplied and Barry mentally shrieked, stabbing at it with an imaginary fork.

“...bored,” he finally said. Barry’s mouth had gone dry and it was with the courage of the Assuredly Doomed that he reached back up to pat Cisco’s shoulder. It was warm, firm, and stupidly soft from that jacket. Barry kept patting him like a loon. “You look bored, man.”

Cisco stared. “I’m not.”

“No?”

“No.”

“You sure?”

“I’m... sure, Barry.”

“Okay. Um, glad to hear it?”

“ _Oh thank god!_ ”

The four of them jumped out of their skin, Barry catching the guilty look that flit across Iris’ face (oh hell, had she been listening? Of course she was listening they were _right there_ ) when Felicity flew into view, heels clacking and her arms coming up to smoosh Cisco hard against her chest. Barry could still make out the tight black dress she was in though, complimented by some fine, silver jewelry. Cisco floundered in the embrace as Felicity dug her chin into his head.

“I thought I was the only one,” she whispered. “Oh, Cisco, you are a life safer. I got here and thought, ‘Wow, Felicity. Great work! Way to totally overdress for this, you loser,’ but now look at you.” She pulled back to indeed look at him, giving Cisco such a sultry once-over that Eddie choked. “You look _great_.”

“...Thanks.”

Except Cisco didn’t sound very happy about the compliment. One would think he’d be thrilled with a woman like Felicity giving him her stamp of approval... or if he wasn’t into that ( _was_ Cisco into that?) Barry would have bet on an, ‘aw shucks’ grin and a fistpump in thanks, because this was Felicity Smoak, hacker extraordinaire giving him a compliment—who cared what the compliment was about? Cisco just looked sullen though and when he took in Felicity’s own outfit his expression soured even more.

“Ten minutes, folks!” Becca was standing at the back of the shop where a judges’ panel had been staged, complete with prizes for the champion as well as first and second runner up. Barry had his eye on that card for a free month at Jitters. Not that he needed it—Dr. Wells was footing all food expenses nowadays and Barry really had to thank him again for that—but he could bring a whole mound of coffee and donuts into the precinct tomorrow, maybe get Singh back on his good side for once. Barry looked around at all the other teams: stereotypical nerdy types, some decked out in cosplay, a sole group of business men who seemed to have gotten dragged here as a team building exercise... not that any of it mattered. They had two of the greatest scientific minds on their team, Barry was no slouch when it came to science or nerd-dom, Iris was the binge queen of TV, and Eddie...

...well, Barry wasn’t sure what Eddie brought. A detective’s instincts? Maybe.

“Plus you’ve got Wells on speed dial, don’t you?” Felicity said. She’d scooted in on Barry’s left, across from Iris, and he gapped a little at the mind reading skills. She just shrugged. “No big. You’re meeting the woman who invented the ‘size-you-up’ look. C’mon, you do have Wells’ number, don’t you?”

“He does,” Iris confirmed.

“That is _so_ cool.”

“It’s listed under ‘My BFF Forever’”

Barry reached across the table to smack her as Eddie and Felicity laughed. “Okay one, you’re a liar. Two, you just basically said ‘best friend forever forever’ which is stupid.”

“But accurate,” Eddie drawled.

“And three, we are not cheating with Wells.”

Felicity pouted. “Just a quick little text? I bet he’d love this sort of thing.”

“We’re winning this fair and square people.” Barry pounded the table with his fist. “...and we’ll drag Dr. Wells along with us next time.”

“ _Yes_. I’m totally flying back for that.”

“Don’t bother.”

They were small words, muttered soft and clearly not intended for the rest of them, but Jitters wasn’t that loud. Four heads swiveled to stare at Cisco who adopted a very deer-in-the-headlights expression.

“I—I just meant it’s a long shot, yeah? Wells isn’t really going to come out for this...”

A lame excuse and Barry was surprised by how much it hurt him. He was about to say something when Iris’ hand shot out, landing squarely on Cisco’s arm.

“Let’s grab coffee for the table, Cisco. Before the contest starts.”

“Uh...”

Cisco was staring at Iris’ hand like it was a massive, dangerous spider. Her suggestion, while innocuous, was said in such a sickly sweet voice that it sent the hairs on the back of Barry’s neck rising up and when Eddie opened his mouth—no doubt to point out that most of them already _had_ coffee—the whole table shook as Iris kicked him.

“C’mon,” Iris bared her teeth and Cisco nearly fell again in his desperation to follow her. You didn’t argue with a tone like that. Barry watched them go, mouth hanging open.

“What the hell is going on?” he whispered.

Felicity pet him on the head. “Don’t worry about it, sweetie. Now, tell me what I need to do to demolish these nerds.”

***

“What the hell are you doing?”

Cisco made the most un-masculine ‘eep!’ noise as Iris practically threw him into Jitter’s supply closet. He landed on a box of napkins, found a rag left in the corner, and starting wringing it for all it was worth. It wasn’t much of a shield, but anything was better than facing Iris’ ire entirely defenseless. Cisco tried to scooch back as she inched closer and realized he had absolutely nowhere to go.

“Well?” she demanded.

“Dude, chill out yeah? I don’t know—”

“Francisco Ramon heaven help me, if you say ‘I don’t know what you’re talking about’ I will personally make it my mission to embarrass you in front of Barry until you can never look him in the eye again.” Iris’ gaze softened slightly even as Cisco gapped. “Because this is about Barry, isn’t it?”

“Um...”

“Cisco.”

“It’s not entirely...”

“ _Cisco_.”

“Okay! Okay! Put your hand down already! God you’re terrifying.” Cisco wasn’t trying to butter her up, but Iris seemed to take that as a compliment. She nodded regally, lowered the hand that looked like it was about to start tickling him ( _no_ ), and sat herself down on the box next to him. She kicked Cisco lightly in the shin.

“Spill.”

He grimaced. “Well, since you bring up embarrassment...” Reaching into his jacket pocket Cisco pulled out the crumpled sheet of paper he’d printed off earlier. He handed it over and Iris only needed one look at the heading to start laughing her head off.

“Yeah, yeah,” Cisco muttered. “Get it out of your system.”

“Cosmo?” she choked. “Oh no, Cisco, please don’t tell me you...”

He just gestured vaguely, telling Iris to read the highlighted sections. She only got through “primping” and “confidence” before she set the paper back down, giving Cisco a pitying look so strong that he kind of felt like he was melting. 

Goddamn. If this was love it could go hang. Screw this.

“You dressed up for him,” Iris stated, not bothering to let him get in a confirmation. “Then you acted like a dick because supposedly that’s ‘cool.’”

“I didn’t—” Cisco cut himself off at Iris’ look. “Okay yeah. Total tool out there. I just...” he muttered something too soft to hear.

Iris leaned in closer. “What was that?”

“...wanted to be like James Bond,” Cisco muttered. 

“ _Oh my god_.” 

“I don’t know, okay!” He threw up his hands. “I just wanted to be...be something _more_ tonight. Something other than nerdy Cisco Ramon.” Cisco gripped his hair briefly, mussing up the braid. “Wait, c’mon, how do you even _know_ this? Please don’t tell me I’m that obvious.”

Iris snorted. “You’re obvious alright. To a girl. Eddie doesn’t have a clue, bless him.”

“Dr. Wells knew,” Cisco said thoughtfully. 

“Geniuses don’t count.”

“Barry is a genius.” 

“Barry is a moron. I don’t care how much science mumbo jumbo you two manage to spout together, he lacks a little thing called common sense.” This condemnation was said with so much fondness that Cisco felt his heart ache. “If it makes you feel any better Felicity is a genius _and_ a girl, so I’m sure she gets it. She’ll forgive you for being a massive ass back there,” Iris bumped his shoulder to take the sting out of her words.

Cisco nodded, drawing in a massive breath. Then he plunged in. “You’re taking this well.” 

“Mmm.” Iris smiled. “I’m not your competition, Cisco.”

Oh c’mon. He immediately wanted to rile against that. How was she not? Except Cisco took one look at Iris’ expression and promptly snapped his mouth shut. 

“Funny how no one considers that there are _two_ people involved in this nonsense,” she drawled. Then Iris sighed. She took the rag out of Cisco’s hand and started it wringing it herself. All at once he could see the toll this was taking. “Look. Full disclosure?”

“Full disclosure,” Cisco agreed. His mouth felt stupidly dry.

“I love Barry. Barry loves me... but we’ve never loved each other in the same way.”

Iris looked down, scuffing her boot on the floor. “I thought things would get easier once we split into different classes in High School. Then when he went off to college—I know he dated a lot there. Then I thought, ‘Hey, he’s got his own job now. Maybe a co-worker?’ but no. Barry keeps... keeps coming back to me. Even now. With Eddie.” Iris smiled, a little wistfully. “Barry gets caught up in doing whatever he set out to do, no excuses. Normally that’s great. Triple major in four years? Done. Youngest tech to work at the CCPD? Easy. Hell, he even met Wells like he promised, though he went about it in a crazy enough manner.”

Cisco huffed. “Tell me about it.”

“Uh huh. Barry is optimistic, to the point of stubbornness, and now I’m starting to think to self-delusion too.” Iris shrugged, a very ‘what are you going to do?’ gesture. “I’m his best friend. His sister. I _love_ him, but not in the way he wants me too, and I never will. You, however,” Iris pressed a fist into Cisco’s arm, making his squirm. “I wouldn’t mind having you as part of the family.”

Cisco could feel his eyes widening. He heard a startled, awkward laugh and realized that was him. "I would?"

"Uh, yeah. No shit, Sherlock. I've seen you and Barry together. Its been, what? A few weeks? And you two are already thick as thieves. You're brilliant, caring—I mean, c'mon. How many guys in Barry's life would keep him company through seven months of coma nonsense? Did you forget that I was there, Cisco? You did _everything_ for him."

He ducked his head. "Dr. Wells—"

"Hired you to keep Barry breathing," Iris interrupted. "Not make him playlists of all his favorite music. Or spend your Friday nights watching movies with him. Or reading every last coma-related article you could get your hands on even though that's obviously Caitlyn's field, not yours. Yes, I saw the folder on your desktop. That's amazing, okay?”

It was weird to say the least. First Caitlyn, giving Cisco an obvious amount of space with Barry, both before and after he woke up from his coma. Then Dr. Wells freaking dragging him for being a lovesick fool. Now Iris, who Cisco had thought was both rival and Big Sister Barrier, all but shoving him at Barry with a 'GO CISCO' sign held up in her arms. It was _super_ weird. More nuts than a squirrel's winter pantry. Cisco leaned back into Iris' shoulder, half expecting the contact to wake him up from some fevered dream.

It didn't.

"Full disclosure?" he asked again. Iris nodded. "I'm sort of freaking out here a bit."

Iris' lips twitched. "You look pretty calm."

"Oh, that's just my normal, handsome facade. Trust me, there is some full, boiling panic going on in here."

"Don't panic," Iris whispered.

"Easy for you to say."

"Keep calm and carry on."

"Oh my god."

"Seriously, we'd better get back before they think we're making out in here."

It was such a startling, ridiculous image that Cisco laughed. Iris nodded, grinning, standing, and offering him a hand to help Cisco to his feet. He swayed there, a little overwhelmed. Iris steadied him and then seemed to hesitate.

She finally drew in a massive breath. “Okay, also, it’s not my place to say why… but you don’t need to worry about Felicity either. _None_ of us are competition. This isn’t some stupid teen drama, Cisco. We’re family.”

Cisco felt like he’d finally found some kind of footing. He ducked his head so Iris wouldn’t see how stupidly bright his eyes had gotten. "That’s great, yeah," he said, a little choked. "But what exactly do I _do_?"

Iris pinned him with a serious look. "First? Drop the 'cool guy' act. You don't need it. Barry likes _you_ , and I think he can learn to like you even more… if you follow this advice instead..." Iris unfolded the wrinkled piece of paper, pointing to another highlighted section of the text.

"Right," Cisco breathed.

Iris quickly leaned forward to kiss his cheek. "Not all of their suggestions are trash."

***

 

_Get him talking about something he’s really passionate about. After a while he’ll start associating those good feelings with you!_

 

***

"Did they get lost?" Barry asked, pushing off the table to try and get a look over the crowd. He seemed to be the only one concerned with Iris and Cisco's disappearance. Eddie had given in and fished out his phone, texting someone rapidly. Felicity fiddled with a straw and absently pat Barry on the back.

"It's fine," she said, not for the first time. "They'll be back in a sec. Iris is just handling a Situation. Don't worry about it."

Barry shot her a massively confused look. "What are you talking about?”

"Surely your massive brain can understand the meaning of 'don't worry about it’?"

Felicity's grin was cheeky, she was begging for some sort of retribution, but at that moment Becca took the microphone and—after some initial, ear splitting feedback—announced that the games were underway. Eyes drawn to the back of Jitters, Barry caught the exact moment Cisco and Iris came back into view, with Cisco looking more... Cisco-ish.

As in, he'd mussed up his braid enough that little tufts were poking out, like they would if he'd been hard at work on a project—and it _did_ look amazing. The sleeves of his nice jacket has been rolled, revealing grease stains and a faded note in green sharpie down near his wrist. Cisco suddenly looked more natural, carefree….but more than this he was glowing, walking confidently back to their table with a real smile on his face. Idly, in the back of his mind, Barry wondered when he'd started paying such close attention to the little details that made Cisco _Cisco_. That little voice was drowned out by the flood of relief though. Things had felt wrong before.

Now, somehow, they were right.

"Hey," Cisco breathed it, scooting right back into Barry's space. He leaned to catch Felicity's eye. After a second Cisco included Eddie in the look too. "Sorry. Wasn't at my best back there. Can we rewind by like fifteen minutes and start again?"

Eddie had an unfathomable look on his face though Felicity immediately made a whirring noise like an old VCR, essentially erasing those fifteen minutes as asked. Iris smiled and Eddie shrugged and honestly, Barry still didn't know what was going on, but then Cisco clapped a hand on his shoulder and that hardly mattered at all.

"E = MC Hammer together. You ready to kick some ass?"

" _Yes_ —" Barry began but then the game was underway.

It was exactly as he'd remembered it. Though he and Iris had never participated before (their friend group never had enough nerds, according to Iris), they'd watched plenty of times over the years, enjoying the quick-paced, almost cut-throat nature of the game. The first half was always a free-for-all, with Becca reading off a question ("No answers until I'm done!") and then calling on the first team to buzz in. Even Barry was surprised when the little light on their table lit up first try, Eddie's thumb still depressing the buzzer.

"Cop's reflexes," he whispered. "I don't even know who Jar Jar Binks is though, let alone what movie he first appeared in."

Barry and Cisco exchanged a look. It was glorious in its simplicity: who the hell is this fool and why is he friends with us? They looked to Iris and Felicity only out of courtesy.

"I'm a Star Trek girl," Felicity said, completely unrepentant. Iris just nodded for the two of them to go ahead, seeming to get a strange amount of satisfaction in their teaming up. Barry grinned.

"Phantom Menace," they answered in unison—and so it began.

The questions, of course, got harder as the game went on, though they quickly realized that Eddie's speed wasn't just a fluke. He got them first dibs on most of the questions, struggling only against the group of Star Wars cosplayers (who were understandably disgusted about how the first question had gone down). Felicity, for reasons Barry couldn’t fathom, moved to sit beside Iris instead and the two of them seemed more than happy to let the boys run the show, sipping coffee and occasionally whispering in one another's ear. Alright then. Great, even. Barry and Cisco easily led the team and as they did Barry discovered a natural, warm camaraderie he wouldn't have expected to find on an otherwise normal Saturday night. Not to say that he and Cisco hadn't been friends before, of course they were, but it hadn't been like this. They hadn't been on such an exact wave-link, so to speak; easy agreement and teamwork all around, the sense that they just fit together, in ways outside of fighting crime. Like they could really be buds, not just close-knit colleagues.

They could be something.

Most people laughed at competitions like this and they would have howled at Barry's thoughts, the ones about 'fitting together' and 'complimenting one another,’ the ultimate sappiness of it all... but it was true. Cisco pulled out all the Sci Fi and dystopian knowledge that Barry had avoided over the years ("It's just all so _sad_ ,") and Barry knew dated shit like what U.S. soap opera first aired in 1956 (and he didn't get any heat from Cisco when As the World Turns flew a little too quickly from his lips). They took turns shouting out the answers, passed the bowl of pretzels without being asked, Cisco had his arm around Barry's shoulders for most of it. It was a comforting weight, just reminding Barry that he was there and they were having fun. Together

However, when they finally embodied the cliché of Barry finishing Cisco's sentence, he had to stop, because one fully-fledged thought had torn through his head like a wrecking ball:

_I thought I only had this with Iris._

She was bent close to Felicity, the two of them hunched over their score sheet and gleefully tallying the points. Eddie had turned in his stool and was leaning against Iris' shoulder, his buzzer held faithfully in hand. Barry noted, in a shocked sort of way, that their physical comfort with one another looked like how his and Cisco's felt. And, with a pang, he realized that he'd basically forgotten that the others were even here.

"It's 'Freed' right?"

Barry startled, coming back to himself. Cisco still had one arm warped around his shoulders, the other pointing insistently towards the stage.

"Huh?"

"The _book_ , dude." Cisco tightened his grip in slight panic. "Look, I promise to judge you later for any love you might have for that shitty, abusive series, but we've got fifteen seconds to answer—" His hand waving got more intense, garnering only an eye-roll from Eddie. "It's Fifty Shades of Grey, Fifty Shades Darker, and Fifty Shades...?"

Barry would always update his dad on the latest book craze when he'd go to visit, so yeah, he'd entertained him with James' fiasco too. Amidst the drab interior, in an appreciated moment of playfulness, his dad had commented that it was a good thing those texts hadn't been published twenty years ago, otherwise Barry might have ended up with an unexpected sibling. His reaction had been something between a squeal and a shriek.

Now though... totally different context. Barry's brain grafted 'erotic romance' onto 'Cisco' and started heating up like an ancient laptop, sparking and letting out clouds of smoke.

"Y-yeah," Barry cleared his throat. "That's right."

Cisco shouted their answer over the tops of thoroughly aggravated heads and Barry could only stare, wondering when things had gotten so complicated. It had happened in less than an hour, right? He'd gone from simplicity, complete understanding of what he wanted and needed... to this. Barry wasn't even sure what 'this' was. Except it had come on fast and was already taking room within him. It didn't want to leave.

Barry watched the dimpling in Cisco's cheeks as he smiled and cheered. _Or maybe_ , he thought, _it started when I got struck by lighting_.

( _Wasn’t that a metaphor for love?_ )

They'd made plans after this. A movie. Barry had supposed it would be at the Labs.

But maybe...

"Hey!" Barry had to practically shout over all the commotion—it was now clear who'd be winning and the other teams felt no need to keep their displeasure quiet. "Hey, Cisco!"

"What's up?"

"Want to catch that movie at my place?"

Cisco froze, his expression sobering, and for one horrible second Barry thought he'd made a colossal mistake. Then a new smile came. It wasn't manic or exuberant like the others, it wasn't even very big, but it _felt_ massive and Barry was a little off kilter just looking at it.

"Yeah?" Cisco breathed.

"Yeah."

"...well alright then."

Barry didn't catch the look Iris and Felicity shared, or the over-exaggerated yawn that Eddie let loose. He was focused solely on Cisco, the world slowing down once more until Barry could see every crease in his face, every path his hair took as it fell over his shoulder. The only thing that permeated was sound—Becca yelling some joke about clear winners.

Not that Barry cared. Inexplicitly, he felt like they'd already won.

 

***

 

_Get him to do something daring. Push him to try new things... you never know what that could translate to in a relationship ;)_

 

 

 


End file.
